


The Meeting

by musicture (ronkytonks)



Series: Murder Mysteries [3]
Category: Mech.mans
Genre: AU, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 03:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3274274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronkytonks/pseuds/musicture
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Antemh is invited to a scholarly meeting. He's worried that he's not good enough for it, but then something more worrisome happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty old and pretty rushed. I know that it's rushed at the end as well. It's the second murder mystery I've done, I'm pretty sure.

You are dressed in a nice tux with a black bow and white undershirt. You have on black slacks and nice black shoes. Your hair is combed back, the tangles and curliness mostly under control. Of course, you almost never look as clean as this. You're typically in some kind of t-shirt and jeans with your hair messy and you basically usually look like you haven't showered in three days all the time. Not today, though. Surprisingly, you've been invited to a meeting of sorts. Other people that you don't know will be there. All you know is the person who is hosting the private party is none other than Conrad Renals, some sort of rich entrepreneur with way too much time on his hands. You've only heard of him through news and television, but people seemingly speak of him a lot.

 

You still don't know why you've been invited. Your grades in school aren't all that great, mostly low A's (though your classmates insist that you have the best grades of all; it doesn't feel like it). However, your mother insisted urgently that you go to this party thing. Maybe you'll be taken on as some sort of assistant! You'll have the chance to go to college and live a decent life, unlike now! Or, that's what your mother had said. She'd been very excited for you. You, on the other hand, only felt blank inside. So what, you've been invited. They could be planning to execute you for all you know. What for? You're sure they could find something to punish a dirty street kid like you for. No matter how hard you tried to make yourself look presentable, something about you seemed grungy. Eventually you said, "Fuck it, there's nothing else I can do," and left.

 

Now, you're arriving at the castle - literally, a castle - in the taxi that had been summoned for you. You don't have to pay, for once, because the taxi has been already paid to pick you up and bring you here. The sky is dark, lightning flashes somewhere beyond the forest that surrounds the castle. It's almost like you've been sucked into Beauty and the Beast or something. Eery. You leave the driver with a faint "Thank you" before getting out of the cab. The taxi man drove you as close to the front entrance as he could, which still isn't that close. The walkway leads from some sort of flowery garden with mossy statues and a water foutain that would look pleasant if the weather wasn't so foul currently. You shove your hands in your pockets, slouching over and starting to walk towards the doors. You allow it for now, because no one is watching, but you know your mother would have a fit if she saw you right now. God save you if she saw you. You sigh and fix your posture, standing straight, your spine feeling uncomfortable with the adjusment and giving a sign that you should really work on your posture more as you arrive at the front door. It is huge. It's like you've seen in the movies where the wooden door towers over you and there are bronze lion heads on each of the doors that you have to knock with.

 

You glance around uncomfortably, not really wanting to go through with this. You have slight social anxiety, or as slight as someone like you can have it. Of course, that isn't what you call it, and it never shows on the outside of your body, but on the inside you usually panic meeting new people and when you actually have to talk to them, too. You make an "enghhh" noise of grossed-out -ness and nervousness, then breathe out, calming your quick-beating heart. You reach and lift the surprisingly heavy handle that is between the bronze lion's jaws. You half expect it to snap at your hands, but it doesn't. Instead, the handle is loud against the dark wood, signaling that you're there. You shift, frowning and glancing around. You almost feel like you shouldn't be here. Being dressed all fancy like this, some castle out in the woods, definitely the set up for some jacked-up shit. You go against your gut and remain in your spot.

 

The doors open after a minute or so. You almost look up, expecting some kind of giant man opening the doors, since they're so huge, but you happen to look down instead, and see a man whose head comes up to your chin. You are reminded of your tall height. Oops. He smiles pleasantly at you, seeming to approve of your choice in suits (it's a rental, but no one needs to know that), and sticks his hand towards you. You almost flinch to dodge it, way more used to fighting than pleasantries. You swallow your instincts and reach your hand out to awkwardly grasp his.

 

"I'm Conrad Renals," he says, introducing himself and smiling at you. He looks just the slightest intimidated, but he's supposed to be a full-grown man who is the head of one of the biggest businesses and you are a 17 year old high school student, so you should be intimidated of him instead. "You must be Antemh, you're the last to arrive."

 

Oh, great.

 

You apologize for being late, though you couldn't have helped it because the taxi took so long to reach where you were supposed to be picked up. Your apology is well-worded and polite, just how your mother taught you. She would be proud. Conrad accepts the apology, telling you not to worry about it, then inviting you inside. You accept the invitation and walk inside after him. He begins to lead you down the grand hall, which is very big and very impressive. You notice the doors shutting behind you. You look up and see some kind of pulley system in process. The doors shut with a loud thud, and you're positive that you probably couldn't figure out the pulley system to open the door. You hope that's not the only way out if you need to escape.

 

You look to Conrad, who is giving you a tour of the hall on the way to the dining room. He's telling you about certain artifacts and pieces of stuff that you have no interest in, but you listen anyways because it's polite. You don't speak, which you find is a good thing, because you had planned to attempt small talk earlier. Chandeliers illuminate the ceiling. It must have been expensive to build this. Some kind of Renessaince art has been painted on the ceiling and you feel slightly embarrassed by the fact that you can actually recognize it. You read too many art books. It's a long walk to the dining hall and you find that Conrad is not exhausted by talking about all of the things that you both pass by. If you had to listen to Conrad talk about every single thing here, you would probably kill yourself.

 

You force yourself to inquire about different pieces that actually do intrigue you a little. Some of them are things you've seen in art books or documentaries. Conrad is pleased by some of the knowledge of the pieces that you have and is even more pleased to tell you about them. You wonder how anyone could ever collect this much useless knowledge about useless things. You decide it's not useless to Conrad, you guess. You pretend to be impressed by his knowledge because you know how it feels to have people dismiss things you're really into.

 

You endure the information barrage until you both get to the dining hall. He introduces you to the people already sitting at the table. You can feel yourself blushing madly, but you're sure that it doesn't show because your emotions never show. There are fourteen other people sitting at the table. The man at the end of the table, who looks short and scrawny and more like a boy, has blonde hair and angry blue eyes. His face seems like it's stuck in an eternal frown and he looks pissy all around. A shy looking woman is seated near him, but not talking to him or anyone else. She's seated more near the middle of the table, which is easily eight or nine seats away from him. A red-headed woman who is just slightly less shy looking than her is quietly talking to her, bright teal eyes darting around and taking in her surroundings. Two seats away from her on the opposite side of the table is a red headed man, easily a few years older than you, but still shorter looking. He wears glasses, his hand resting on the man's arm who is sitting next to him. The man is talking to a woman whose skin is darker than your's and whose glasses are wide and circular. Across from her is a skinny looking woman who is in a white blouse and black skirt and seems like the type who might snap you in half if you don't snap her first accidentally. A few seats away from her is a black woman whose skin is just lighter than your's and whose hair is a reddish-black. She's dressed in a simple but nice looking and form fitting dress and talking to a red haired person next to her. You can't tell what gender the person next to her is; the person has short hair and is wearing a long-sleeved button up shirt with a red tie and black jacket, but their face looks definitely feminine and confuses you. A few seats away from them on the side of the table nearest to you is a woman who looks akin to the one with the wide glasses. You suspect the two may be sisters, though this one has messier hair and a bored expression. A happy looking woman who looks like she might be just a year or two older than you is sitting next to her, a red dress on with a brown jacket. Across the table from them is a blonde haired woman with a kind expression. She's in a purple dress and smiling and chatting with the two women in front of her. Near the end of the table is an Asian-looking man in a tux next to a tubbier man with red hair and a red scarf on.

 

You're definitely the youngest person here, but also one of the tallest, which makes you stand out even more. You swallow and look to Conrad, only to find he's already sat down next to the woman in the black dress. You stand there and look pitifully helpless. You earn a few glances from the people at the table. You wonder if any of them know each other. Too bad that you don't know any of them, that would make this easier. At least in high school you can eat outside when there aren't any open spots at the tables at lunch or you can escape to the library. Here, you have to make a choice quickly, but you also don't want to bother anyone by sitting next to them or be drawn into or interrupt any conversations.

 

Luckily, or unluckily depending on how you look at it, the pretty woman in the black form-fitting dress invites you to sit with her and Conrad and the person whose gender you cannot determine. She gives you a charming smile that you're sure she probably gives a lot of men and waves you over. You risk going by the other people as you scoot around the table to the other side where Conrad, the woman, and the undetermined person is sitting. The red head looks to you, raising an eyebrow, the smile that had been on their face just a few moments ago, gone. You suddenly decide this was probably a bad idea. You give an awkward wave to all three of them and pull out a chair to sit down in.

 

You say nothing and the person next to you says nothing either. It's the woman, actually, who starts talking. "Well hello there," she says, smiling deviously. It makes you uncomfortable, but you're pretty sure that was intentional of her. You give her a nervous smile. She looks like she's twenty-eight or so. You're only seventeen, that's like eleven years holy shit is she one of those legendary "Puma" women the boys at your school talk so much about?

 

You shift in your seat uncomfortably and the woman keeps talking. "I'm Sarlla, this is Brusli," she motions to the person next to you, "and this is Conrad, but you've already met him." Interesting. (Not really.)

 

Brusli looks to you, giving you a judgemental look. You feel your heart beat a little quicker and not just because of nervousness. They frown, then speak. "So where're you from anyways? Never seen you 'round here before."

 

That is definitely a feminine voice. You subcionsiosly make the switch from "they" pronouns to "she" pronouns. You don't notice it. However, you do notice the thick Australian accent, which is more noticable than Sarlla's Scottish or Irish or "SOMETHING from the U.K." accent that's entwined with her words.

 

You sit there for a moment, your brain trying to process the question while your body inwardly freaks out about social interaction. You're quiet just a moment too long, but you answer anyways. "I'm from the Bronx," you finally get out. It's an interesting area, though you live in the rundown part of it. Your mom and you make due alone in an apartment. You have a part time job at an antique store just down the road. Of course, you don't tell them this, as it would serve no purpose. The three seem to sense your nervousness, or else just think you're rude from your short and curt answer, and move onto another subject not concerning you.

 

"So Brusli, you decided to get your first haircut ever, am I right?" Sarlla gives Brusli a smile that you know very well. Where you're from, it's called "shiteating".

 

Brusli gives Sarlla a dirty look, then you notice her fingers go up to her hair subconciously to play with a few scruffy strands. "I used to get haircuts all the time when I was in secondary school, then I got tired of maintaining it and just let it grow out 'til now."

 

"So my statement still stands. Secondary school was long ago Brus."

 

"Fuck off, I'm in my last year of tertiary, it wasn't that long ago."

 

Sarlla snickers. You don't understand a word they're saying, because you have no idea what the fuck second or tertiary school is."What's secondary and tertiary school?" you asked, risking sounding like an uneducated twat. All three of the adults look to you. Conrad has a sympathetic look, but not too sympathetic because you can tell that fucker ain't from America. Sarlla gives you a sly smile. Brusli just stares at you with no emotion.

 

"Secondary school is like high school," Conrad explains to you, using his hands to gesture like he did when he led you down the hall. "Tertiary is schooling beyond high school, like college and such."

 

You nod. Okay. You can work with that. Before you have any chance to fuck things up further, Conrad stands up, doing that cliche tapping-the-wine-glass-with-a-fork thing to get everyone's attention. You aren't used to sceneries like this. You blush in embarrassment even though you haven't done anything. The blush, of course, doesn't show up.

 

"Attention, everybody!" Conrad calls. You only now notice the very subtle hint of some kind of British accent. You wonder if you're the only American in here. If you are, you'll have a bunch of vocabulary ingestion in your future.

 

Everyone looks to Conrad expectantly. Conrad launches off into some speech about some kind of... something. A club or some sort. An excellence club for people who have potential. He introduces you as the newest member, then turns to you and explains that he's known almost everyone in here since they were your age. He chooses two new persons to join every year. By the looks of it, he must have been doing this for around seven years now? You wonder who the other person to have been invited is.

 

You feel thouroughly confused, though. You don't have any potential. You have mediocre grades. Sure you rock at the guitar but not enough for someone like Conrad to notice you. You sit back in your chair, looking around the room. So, the other people in here are probably really smart minds. That's pretty cool. You glance at Sarlla. She and Conrad are probably the oldest ones in here, her looking about twenty-eight or so and Conrad maybe, like, thirty? Thirty three? That'd give about six or seven years for this club to have been rolling, so Sarlla probably had been in it since twenty-one or later, leaving Conrad to have started it around when he was twenty-six or so? You'll have to keep the question in mind to ask him later. Conrad explains that the club is basically giving you a chance to become all you've ever wanted to become, to unlock your true potential, go to college without worry about fees and such. Your hopes sky-rocket, but only for a moment before doubt kicks in. Your mom will love this news, but there must be some kind of catch. No one is nice enough to fork out 45 grand a year for college for fourteen people. You don't feel brave enough to calculate the amount of money that is. Some of the people in here look like they've just finished with college or are going to. You feel nervous sitting with smart people. You aren't smart.

 

After Conrad's speech, you're all dismissed to eat whatever you want and chat with whomever you want. You take this chance to get away from Sarlla and Conrad and Brusli, no matter how pleasant they'd been, partially because you're nervous, but also because, well, there are other people to meet. If you're brave enough.

 

You get a plate and put some food on it, but not too much. You figure you'll get seconds once you feel courageous enough. The red-headed girl who isn't Brusli taps you on the shoulder. You look to her and she's smiling brightly at you, the shyer girl next to her. The other girl gives you a very small smile.

 

"Hi," the shorter girl says. Her height says she should be a grade below you, but her looks say that she's probably in her third or fourth year of college. "You're one of the new people this year, right? I'm Pendic, this is Aniese." She smiles at you. You can distinguish a French accent in her voice.

 

You decide that instead of running away from new people, these girls seem nice enough that maybe you can stay and talk with them. You smile nervously at them. You decide to sit down in an empty seat at the long dining table and the two girls join you. Pendic sits down next to you and Aniese next to her. You haven't heard Aniese talk at all, so you wonder if maybe she's American. Then again, there's 196 countries, so maybe you are the only American. It's weird to consider. All three of you are quiet, not sure what to say, so you begin to eat. You had gotten some weird noodle stuff with little squishy white cubes sprinkled through it. The cubes don't taste that great. You also managed to get a little bit of some kind of salad - Greek, you think - and just a little chocolate pudding. At least, you hope that's what it is.

 

The food is actually really good, better than you've ever had (though you feel guilty for thinking that; your mom is a good cook). You get a few bites down before looking to Pendic and Aniese. "So uh, where are you two from?"

 

Pendic and Aniese look up at you and you immediately regret saying anything, for the simple fact that their attention is focussed on you. You give a small and nervous smile. Pendic blinks, then gives you a genuine smile. "I'm from Canada."

 

"Really? I thought you were from France or something." You pause, not sure if that's offensive, but Pendic isn't offended. She giggles.

 

"People usually think that." She looks to Aniese to let her answer. You glance at her, too.

 

"I'm f-from Sw-Switzerland," Aniese says quietly, looking to Pendic. It's the first time you've heard her speak. She sounds German, though you think Switzerland is around that area. Probably. You also heard it's really cold, or is that Sweden?

 

You take a few more bites of your food; you're almost done with your plate. "I'm from America. Um, New York, to be specific." You give them both a nervous smile, thinking they may not know where that is, but to your surprise they both give you smiles and nod. After all, all of these people are supposed to be smart, right?

 

"So, uh, what's it like in Switzerland?" you ask Aniese. You actually honestly are interested. You've never really talked to people from other countries.

 

"U-Um, it's p-pretty." Aniese shifts in her chair, uncomfortable with the attention she's receiving. "There are m-mountains wh-wh-where I l-live - a l-lot of th-them. I-It looks like s-something y-you might s-see in a p-ost card." She smiles shyly, a blush highlighting her cheeks.

 

Pendic smiles at the both of you. "What's it like in New York?" she asks you.

 

"Uh, well, there's a lot of people. I live in the Bronx, and uh, in the more rundown side of town, so it ain't as pretty as Switzerland, probably. There's a lot of places to go, though."

 

Both Pendic and Aniese nod. You try to think if you've missed anything, which you probably have.

 

By now, you've empties your plate and aren't hungry enough to get seconds. You glance around before looking to Pendic. "How long have you both been in this, uh, club... thing?"

 

"I've been here for two years," Pendic tells you. "I joined when I was 18, and now I've moved onto post-secondary school." You assume that that's like college.

 

Aniese looks down at her plate, which she's hardly eaten anything off of. "U-Um, I just joined l-last year. I'm in my second year of tertiary school."

 

You wonder if America is the only country that doesn't use all that weird secondary and tertiary stuff. You absentmindedly tap your fork against your plate quietly. "Who's the new member of the group, besides me?" you ask Pendic. She glances around, then nudges your arm and nods towards the smaller woman you'd seen earlier in the red dress and brown jacket.

 

"That's Arsoni. She's mute, from what I've heard. I haven't had a chance to talk with her yet." She smiles at you, then begins to eat the rest of her food. You suddenly feel awkward.

 

You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, even though you honest to God don't need to go. You don't even know where it is, you just need to escape for a few minutes. Conrad notices you attempting to leave and approaches you.

 

"Where you going?" he asks in a friendly tone.

 

"I uh, have to go to the bathroom."

 

"You need help finding it?"

 

"Um. Yeah, actually, that'd be great." You give him a small smile.

 

Conrad smiles at you and gives you directions to the bathroom. You thank him and start making your way where he told you to go. You take your time walking, though, and try to calm your heart's nervous beating. That's when all of the lights (you'd thought the candles on the chandelier were real, but no, turns out they were electrical) go out. And you hear a scream.

 

You start to rush back the way you think you came. The scream sounded male, about half the people in the room were male. Maybe someone was startled? That's honestly the last thing you think before you slam into something solid, hitting your head hard enough to knock yourself unconscious.

 

-

 

When you awake, the lights are back on and your forehead feels damp and sore. You're staring up at the impressive ceiling of the grand hall. You try to sit up, which makes your head rush and you fall back down. As you fall, you catch a glimpse of your own blood glistening on the pillar that you ran into. You are, honestly, pathetic.

 

You hear hurried footsteps coming towards you, but you're too dazed to sit up and see who it is. The tubbier Asian man who had been sitting next to the one with sunglasses kneels down next to you and his face is full of concern and something else. Anger? Did you do something wrong?

 

"Who screamed?" is what you try to say, but it comes out with slurred and dazed words. The man ignores your question (you're sure he couldn't understand you anyways) and helps you - more like drags you - up onto your feet.

 

You're a little wobbly and you see the bloodstain on the pillar from your head. You reach a hand up to dab at your forehead; when you pull your hand back, there's sticky blood on it. You attempt to say something coherent, but none of your words come out. The man's mixed look turns into one of sympathy and concern and he begins to lead you in the direction you had originally been going. He takes you, you find, to the bathroom and asks you to lean your head down. You are feeling less stumbly and dizzy, but grip the sink ledge nonetheless as you lean your face down. He turns on the faucet and splashes his hands with some water before rubbing the blood off of your face. You hiss; there's a giant bruise (or it feels giant) on your forehead, plus the gash stings. He's gentle with your skin as he washes the blood off. Finally, he grabs a towel and dabs the moisture off your face. You've stopped bleeding by now and are less likely to fall over now.

 

"What happened?" you ask when you can get your words together.

 

The man frowns at you, then says, "Conrad was murdered."

 

You stare at the man, the fact Conrad is dead only barely registering in your mind. Dead? You just saw him a few moments ago, there's no way he's dead.

 

"You're kidding, right?" you say after a few moments. You expect the man's face to split into a happy grin, but it stays solemn.

 

"I wish, dude." He frowns, glancing away from you to look at the slightly bloodstained sink. Suddenly, he turns to you and asks, "It wasn't you, right?"

 

"What?"

 

"You... it wasn't you who killed him, right?"

 

You think back. You had left the dining hall, gotten halfway down the grand hall, the lights had gone out, then you'd knocked yourself out by running into a pillar. You already have taken a few minutes to reply. The man doesn't look suspicious by your silent recalling, just expectant.

 

"No, I don't think I did."

 

The man is quiet for a moment, then asks, "Why were you leaving the dining hall anyways?"

 

"I wanted to go to the bathroom. I was getting nervous around all these people," you answer truthfully, though it wasn't the answer the man expected, you're sure. He nods, though, accepting the answer.

 

"So..." You hesitate. "How was he, y'know?"

 

"Stabbed in the stomach with a knife. We found him on the floor with it there, there... was blood everywhere. My first thought was maybe he'd fallen on it or it'd fallen on him, but that was impossible. He was too far from the table."

 

You're silent. You feel guilty for one of your thoughts being that, well, so much for your potential future. You force the thought away and focus on the deal at hand. "Is someone going to call the police?"

 

"No, there's no call reception. We could, of course, leave and find someone, but Acklin's called basically a lockdown on the place until someone confesses."

 

You don't know who Acklin is. You do, however, see this as the beginning of some kind of murder mystery. "Well, is there a butler that works here?" you ask, blinking genuinely at the man.

 

The man frowns, confused looking and unsure what you're getting at. You elaborate. "Well, because it's always the butler who's the killer..."

 

The man still stares at you like you're an idiot. You blush and bite your lip. "Never mind, I'm being stupid. Let's go back to the dining hall."

 

The man agrees with you and holds your arm as you both walk so that you don't fall over or anything. The man explains to you that you're a prime suspect for Conrad's murder, because you weren't accounted for after his death.

 

"You have no alibi, in other words."

 

"Conrad knew where I was going."

 

"Well Conrad is dead now, isn't he."

 

The man makes a good point.

 

When you both reach the dining hall, everyone's eyes go to you. No one is eating or chatting anymore and the mood has changed significantly. You feel if looks could kill, you'd be dead right now.

You glance around for Pendic and Aniese. They're sitting near the end of the table on the opposite side of the room. Both of them are looking at you, looking sad and something else. You suddenly feel self conscious about the huge gash on your forehead. At that moment, a few curls decide to pop out of their locked position and droop into your face. The man you're with pats your back and tells you to go sit down, that Acklin wanted to wait until you were found to address everyone.

 

You walk to Pendic and Aniese. They look slightly scared of you and you aren't sure why that hurts. Maybe because they were so nice before. You quietly ask Pendic if you can sit down next to her. She tells you yes, you can. You say thank you and sit down. Aniese gives Pendic a worried look.

 

"What happened to you?" Pendic asks you.

 

"I ran into a pillar."

 

"How?"

 

"It was dark and when I heard Conrad scream I tried to run back to the room and ran into a pillar."

 

"Why'd you leave in the first place?"

 

"I had to go to the bathroom."

 

Pendic nods. You aren't sure if she quite believes you, but you can tell that you've soothed her nerves a little. Aniese still looks nervous.

 

"If you d-d-didn't k-k-kill C-Conrad," she quietly says, so quietly you can barely hear her, "who d-did?"

 

"I don't know," you admit. "I don't know any of these people or what they're capable of."

 

Pendic moves her hand and very gently rests her fingers on your arm, though she doesn't even seem to notice she's doing it. All three of you look up when the scrawny lady in the white blouse and black skirt stands up and clears her throat. She glances around at everyone. No one talks. The woman has a moment where she looks nervous speaking, then in another moment the look is gone.

 

"So." She glances to you, breathing in. "Where were you."

 

Everyone looks to you and suddenly you're being put on the spot. You feel nervous with everyone staring at you.

 

"I was going to the bathroom."

 

"Why didn't you come back when the lights came on? And what happened to your face?"

 

"I started running back when I heard Conrad scream, then I accidentally knocked myself out," you mumble, cheeks feeling heated.

 

"Xemnes?" the woman asks, looking to the man who'd escorted you in.

 

Xemnes nods. "I found him on the floor out cold and there was blood on the pillar, so he probably couldn't have gotten to Conrad."

 

You notice the emphasis on "probably".

 

The woman looks back to you, nods, then glances around at everyone. "No one is cleared of suspicion right now. The only person with a clear alibi is Conrad, and he happens to be dead. No one-"

 

The woman is interrupted by the pissy looking blond haired and blue eyed man that you'd noticed when you first came in. "Oh my fucking god, why don't we call the police or something? My brother is fucking dead and you're all trying to fucking play detective!" His face is turning a light shade of red. You frown.

 

"How the hell do you suggest we call them, Darvin? Do you happen to have a phone? Does anyone in here have a phone? Does your brother's fucking castle happen to have any phones here?" the woman argues. The man, Darvin, says nothing, just angrily stares at her. She continues. "If we walk the ten mile walk to the nearest town, it's too easy for the killer to get away during the walk, or even after the police are contacted. The only people in here that are even from the same country are Kinpoh and Dadevu, Darvin. How easy would it be to claim political asylum or some other bullshit status, huh?"

 

You lean your arm into Pendic's hand, blinking. You're startled when someone suddenly sits in the chair in front of you. You look foward and see Sarlla. She looks visibly upset, not a look that you would expect from her. She's also very visibly angry.

 

"I hope to dear God that it wasn't you who killed Conrad because I am going to rip off the lips of whoever did and shove it up their ass so that they can kiss my foot when I shove it up their fucking ass. If it was you, I swear I'll rip off your fucking dick."

 

You don't point out that you don't have a dick. You swallow and nod, though. "I promise it wasn't me," you say in a low voice. The scrawny woman and Darvin are still arguing, you notice.

 

You ignore Darvin and the scrawny woman for the time being and look to Sarlla, feeling guilty even though you've done nothing. "I'm um, sorry, though," you tell her, actually feeling sorry. "That he died and all."

 

"I don't need your fucking pity," Sarlla whispers - more like hisses - at you. You are an easily startled deer and hide slightly behind Pendic's shoulder. She looks to you, surprised, then looks to Sarlla and tips her head.

 

"I'm sorry, Sarlla," Pendic says quietly. Aniese nods, moving her across the table to take on of Sarlla's.

 

Sarlla still looks pissed and upset, but she calms down just a smidge before taking her hand away from Aniese's. "Thanks," she mumbles, then mentions she'll be sitting with Brusli and moves back to where she had been sitting before.

 

You're still hugging Pendic's arm and don't plan to let it go for a while. She looks to you, then takes a hand and gently pats the side of your face with it. "I know you didn't do it."

 

You know, too.

 

Eventually Xemnes intervenes in the woman's and Darvin's argument.

 

"Arguing isn't going to get us anywhere, Acklin, Darvin," he says. Acklin and Darvin are both angry and red in the face, but only Acklin seems to calm down once Xemnes stands up. "I agree with Acklin, we have to find out who killed Conrad."

 

God must have a sense of humor, because a sudden bolt of lightning flashes outside. You look towards the window. You hadn't noticed it'd started storming. It's as dark as night outside now. All this scene is lacking is some sort of organ music. Everyone looks towards the window and seems to be reminded of the depth of the situation at hand.

 

The man with sunglasses is mumbling something to Xemnes, who seems to take an interest in whatever he's whispering. "What is it, Skinnr?" Acklin asks.

 

The sunglasses man, Skinnr you suppose, blushes at being paid attention to. "Uh, I was thinking, what if we reviewed what reasons everyone could have for killing um, Conrad? I guess it won't, y'know, really bring us any closer to finding out who the murderer is, but it might give us a better understanding of what we're dealing with."

 

You glance to Pendic and she glances back. Then you both look to Skinnr. He continues, "Because, well, everyone right now is suspecting the new guy, but I don't know what his motives would be. Neither of the new members were told exactly what would happen or take place, so the only seeming motive would be, y'know, just 'cause. Or maybe he didn't like Conrad. But that statement, I think, applies to anyone who is the killer. The new guy isn't necessarily cleared of suspicion, but there isn't much of a chance that he could have planned and executed his plan unless it was just a random urge."

 

Right. Damn right. Hell yeah. You, of course, are relieved, but you don't show it. Pendic moves her arm away from you and rubs it absently. You probably stopped the blood flow or something and now it's asleep. You hate when that happens.

 

Skinnr starts a discussion about other people about other people as well. He seems to be picking people at random. "I know it wasn't Xemnes because he was next to me the entire time until the lights came back on, because that's when he went to go find the new guy. But, if he were to have done it, I imagine it'd be a random kill, then, like the new guy's woukd have been."

 

"Antemh," you say. Everyone looks at you and your cheeks heat up. "My name's Antemh."

 

Skinnr, however, isn't looking at you, but he nods. You suspect he's blind. He pats Xemnes's arm.

 

"Acklin, you don't have much motive except maybe you're wanting to level up in your club status or something, or if you just don't like Conrad. You're becoming a doctor, right? So you wouldn't have killed Conrad so sloppily. You would have pulled the knife out after you stabbed him so that he would have a lesser chance of surviving. Whoever stabbed him obviously didn't know leaving the knife in helps the victim and staunches the blood flowing out of the body."

 

You're kind of disgusted by this talk. You open your mouth to pitch in another motive, but fortunately Pendic elbows you and makes you shut up. She shakes her head at you.

 

"You're already suspected, don't make yourself even more suspicious by trying to make someone else suspicious." You open your mouth to defend yourself because you hadn't meant to do that, but Pendic shushes you quietly.

 

You pout like the grumpy child you are. Aniese looks to you, her eyebrows pinched together and lower lip slightly jutted out in a worried look. You give her a small wave and she blushes before sitting back.

 

Skinnr is still discussing the motives of people. "Sarlla, you have more motives than some of the others. You'd fit into that 'kill my husband for his wealth' stereotype if you weren't you." Sarlla blushes and frowns at him, bristling. "No offense, though. You were here from the start, you're closer to Conrad than most anyone here, so it'd be easy for you to have an unforseen motive. You might be the jealous girlfriend or something. You were with him the entire time leading up to his death."

 

"She was with me when Conrad got killed," Brusli pipes up. She's leaning her arms and head on the table. "I actually grabbed onto her when the lights went out."

 

"Only 'cos you're a wimp."

 

"Shuddup."

 

You decide now is a good time to speak up. Pendic nudges you but you go through with it anyways. "Why don't we determine people's alibis? If other people can account for a certain person, then that person has an alibi, but for those that no one can account for, they have no alibi and are considered prime suspects."

 

Skinnr pauses from what he'd been saying and considers your suggestion. "That's a good idea. But, you do realize that now you're one of the prime suspects, right?"

 

You nod. "Yeah, but that's okay."

 

Skinnr nods. "Does anyone have a notepad that we can use to write down names? I can't remember everyone I've talked to."

 

You see the other new person raise her hand excitedly. She looks excited to be of help to the investigation you're all going through. Skinnr, of course, doesn't see her, but everybody else does. Sarlla motions for Arsoni to come sit near her and Skinnr and Brusli.

 

You decide to stay quiet and let Skinnr do his "Thang". Arsoni looks ecstatic being able to help out. Skinnr decides to start with Sarlla, even though Sarlla looks slightly annoyed at being called first. Arsoni writes Sarlla's name down. You wonder if Arsoni already knows everyone in here. You only know maybe five people so far.

 

"Okay, so. Brusli said she was next to you when the lights went out and that she'd been holding onto you, too," Skinnr tells Sarlla. Sarlla nods. "But, I think anyone who has an alibi will need more than just one person speaking for them, because the most people who would have planned this, I'm assuming, would be two, the least being one of course."

 

Skinnr pauses, waiting for anyone else to speak up. You see Aniese shyly raise her hand and speak up. "S-S-Sarlla came to ch-check on me right a-after th-the lights c-came b-back on."

 

"Sarlla wasn't really even close to Conrad before or after the lights did their things," Pendic said. You don't say anything because you don't have anything to pitch in.

 

"Did someone write that down?" Skinnr asks.

 

"Arsoni wrote it down," Sarlla tells him. Skinnr nods.

 

"I should do myself so that I don't look like I'm trying to exclude myself or anything. Any alibis for me, I guess?" Skinnr says.

 

Xemnes nudges him. "I was next to you the entire time, plus you're blind, dude."

 

"I didn't hear or see you move at all," Brusli chips in. A few other people also give their says.

 

"Okay, so I guess I'm cleared," Skinnr says. You see Arsoni jot his name down on her notepad.

 

You turn to Pendic curiously. "How do you think the lights went out? Could it have been planned? Or did someone see the chance and take it?"

 

Pendic looks thoughtful at your question. Aniese is focussed on Skinnr talking, her cheeks highlighted by a blush. Odd. You look to Pendic when she answers.

 

"Well, someone would have had to time it just right. They turned on just a minute after Conrad screamed. I think someone set a timer or something akin to that, and then planned when to kill Conrad. So the question is, who knows this place well enough to do that?"

 

Pendic's question leaves you thinking hard. You decide you'll wait until Skinnr finishes judging everybody. You've interrupted him enough times that it might be annoying if you do it again. He saves you and Darvin for last. Of course you don't have any alibis. Neither does Darvin. Skinnr asks Arsoni to read out the list.

 

"Arsoni's mute," Sarlla tells him. Skinnr blushes.

 

"Oh, sorry Arsoni. I couldn't see." He smiles sheepishly and she reaches and pats his hand.

 

Sarlla takes the notepad and reads out who doesn't have any alibis. "Kinpoh, Darvin, Antemh, Growen, and Dadevu."

 

You almost raise your hand like an eager kindergartener to share Pendic's question. You don't, though. You nudge her instead. "You should share your idea," you tell her.

 

Pendic smiles a little at you, then nods. There's a brief moment of silence before Pendic speaks. "I think that someone timed the lights going out." She glances around, then you notice she suddenly looks a little shyer. Aniese takes her hand and gives her a tiny encouraging smile. Pendic breathes in. "And if that were so, then it comes down to who knows the place well enough to have done that? I don't really know how to judge that, though. Anyone could easily lie."

 

Most everyone looks thoughtful. Aniese looks a little scared and shy, Darvin still looks pissy. You glance around.

 

You're surprised when Aniese speaks up. "I-It would m-m-make sense i-if th-the pe-pe-person who d-did it w-w-was c-c-close to C-Conrad," she says. She looks down, fumbling with her jacket. "Th-That wa-way th-th-they co-could p-plan it e-easier."

 

Sarlla frowns at the table and nods. "Taking from the list of people who don't have any alibis, Antemh couldn't have possibly been able to plan any of this." You feel relieved to be cleared of reasonable suspicion. "Kinpoh and Dadevu have been here for about four years, so it's possible they could both have timed it. Growen joined at the same time as me, which was the second year of this club, so it's very possible for her to have planned it. Darvin, of course, is Conrad's brother, and he should know this place just as well as Conrad." She glances around. Darvin's angry mood seems to further.

 

A few people glance to Darvin and he makes faces at them. "Why would I kill my own fucking brother? I've dealt with him all these fucking years, why now?"

 

That certainly doesn't help his cause. You interrupt. "Should we check Conrad's bodies for clues or something?"

 

Mostly everyone either looks sad or sort of grossed out at the prospect of touching a dead body. Acklin is not one of those people. She nods. "Good idea. I'll check it out, and since you came up with the idea, you can help me."

 

Eww. You struggle not to make a face as you get up. Acklin walks right over to Conrad's body. You personally had no idea where it was until now. Your stomach twists and you cover your mouth. There's sticky almost-dried blood pooling out of Conrad's stomach. The skin visible on the stomach is slightly twisted around the knife, like someone twisted it instead of just thrusting it in. It isn't some tiny toddler knife either; it's a huge kitchen knife, most likely taken from the buffet on the table. You feel like throwing up. Acklin only looks to you. She looks used to this, though you can't imagine how anyone could ever get used to this. You feel every bit of the food in your stomach fighting to make its way back up but somehow manage to keep it down. On top of the iron-ish smell of blood, there's a digusting shit smell. You mention it to Acklin.

 

She only snaps on two rubber gloves (where did she get those?!) and replies, "The bowels are loosened upon death."

 

Sweet baby Jesus. You make a disgusted face. "So, in all these movies where people are sobbing over their loved one's bodies, the dead person is shitting their pants during it?!" you quietly cry. You don't want anyone else hearing your grossed out sentiments.

 

"Yep." Acklin squats down next to Conrad, her shoes getting blood on them. "What have you noticed here?"

 

"Uh, well the knife looks like a big kitchen knife. Whoever did this wanted to cause the most damage quickly, I guess? And the skin looks twisted around the knife, but the knife is still sort of vertical, like the person couldn't quite turn it all the way. Maybe it was too hard."

 

Acklin smiles at you, which looks, quite frankly, out of place on her face. "You're an observant one," she praises you. You blush, though it doesn't show on your face.

 

"Who do you think killed Conrad?" you ask her.

 

"While investigating a crime scene you aren't supposed to have a bias. You need to be open to any evidence. If I choose someone right now, then I most likely will find evidence pointing towards them, because I have subconsciously geared myself to find that person guilty."

 

"Soooo... who do you think is guilty?"

 

Acklin stops mid crotch-pat on Conrad and looks at you. You smile. She doesn't. She glances around, then sighs. "I personally think it was Darvin."

 

You tip your head. Acklin elaborates. "He's closest to Conrad. He's just a barnacle on the side of Conrad's huge hull. If his brother died, all of Conrad's attention and wealth and shit goes to him. Darvin knows this place as well as Conrad. The fact the knife here isn't twisted all the way shows either he didn't have the strength or couldn't muster the courage to hurt his brother any more. There's a lot of evidence building against Darvin, but I need to keep an open mind for the other three suspects, just in case."

 

You nod. She pulls a handkerchief out of Conrad's pocket and holds onto it as she inspects his body further. You raise an eyebrow. "Why'd you take the handkerchief?" you ask Acklin, tipping your head.

 

"I'm going to perform a test on the suspects. It might not mean anything, but the handkerchief was poking out of Conrad's pocket. I have an idea of how to catch who killed Conrad."

 

"How?"

 

"Can't tell you yet. Watch and see." Acklin stands up and you follow suit, still confused.

 

"Well, I've come to the conclusion that he is indeed dead," Acklin says, pulling off her gloves. There's a few laughs and giggles, though it probably seems funnier because of the nervous mood. You thought it was kind of funny.

 

You decide to sit somewhere fuckall random. Which ends up being next to the small Asian guy and his friend with the scarf. Pendic looks down at the table at you with a questioning look. You give her a peace sign. She smiles and sits back.

 

You, however, don't begin a conversation with your new table buddies. You look to Acklin as she holds her hands behind her back. "So, I found a critical piece to finding out who killed Conrad. I found this handkerchief. It was sticking out of his right pocket just enough to be noticable. It also had a little note in it, written by Conrad. He said that he thought he knew who was planning to kill him." Acklin glances around. Had there really been a note? "So, he said whoever knew the color of the handkerchief wouldn't be guilty."

 

You feel thouroughly confused. What the fuck is Acklin doing? Growen and Kinpoh and Dadevu all end up telling Acklin that they have no idea what the color of it was. Everyone has looks of varying surprise and fear and anger. She turns to Darvin and asks him to tell her the color of it. He, arrogantly, sits up and tells her the color.

 

"Green with stupid jellyfish on it. And you were wrong, it was in his left pocket."

 

Acklin's eyes sharpen. You aren't sure what's transpiring. Acklin holds out the handkerchief. "I lied."

 

Darvin's eyebrows furrow. "Excuse me?"

 

She keeps the handkerchief out. "I lied about the note. Conrad probably had no idea at all that you had any motives to kill him. Also," she turns to the other three suspects, "all three of you are innocent, I know that. I'm sorry for putting all three of you under that stress."

 

Darvin looks outraged by the mere suggestion of being accused. "Why would I kill my own brother?! It was Aniese who did it! Have you noticed she hasn't said anything at all all night?!"

 

Aniese, to your surprise, looks guilty and starts to, basically, blubber. Pendic hugs her, looking to Darvin angrily. "I was with her the whole time! She didn't do anything!"

 

"She was going to, though! I told her to! But she's so fucking weak she backed out last minute and I had to do it myself!"

 

Everyone goes quiet. Aniese cries, shaking. She starts telling Pendic that it was her fault that Conrad got killed and tells her how Darvin threatened her if she didn't do it but in the end she couldn't do it and somehow it was her fault that Conrad was killed. You think that maybe she could have told someone, but then again, maybe Darvin would have carried out whatever threats, maybe she wouldn't have been believed. Pendic looks beyond angry at Darvin and hugs Aniese tightly. You don't believe that Aniese is the type to wish harm on anyone, so without even knowing you do it, you place all the blame on Darvin.

 

"That's all I needed," Acklin says. She pulls out from her bra (which you feel a little squickish about), to your surprise, a cell phone. You thought she'd said no one had brought phones. She raises it to her ear, and says, "Did you get all of that?"

 

Did... she have her phone on this entire time? Who was on the other side? Darvin sputters, then demands who is on the phone. Acklin puts her phone down on the table and seperates it from some little leather looking thing. "Isn't it convenient that I'm on a CSI team?"

 

What? That is something you didn't even expect. Talk about a plot twist. Darvin stares at her, then bolts from his chair, running out of the dining hall. Acklin drops her badge and starts running after him. You glance down at her feet of all things because the first thing in your mind is "Heels?"

 

You push your chair out and actually leap over the table (not necessary, but something you've always wanted to do) to help Acklin. A few others follow your lead. You're a good runner, you're on your school's track team and, when your dad had lived with you and your mom, you'd had to escape him many times. You catch up with Acklin quickly enough. She looks to you and gives you a nod, gesturing towards Darvin. You feel surprised that she's letting you go get him, then you press yourself forward.

 

You easily feel anger at Darvin. Conrad had been such a nice guy, and Darvin is such a pissy guy, why did Conrad deserve to die? Darvin isn't that quick of a runner, what with his tiny chicken legs, so you easily dart forward and bowl him over. He screams profanities at you and tells you not to touch him. You ignore him and end up sitting on him. He tries to hit your crotch. It hurts, but not as much as it would with a dick.

 

Acklin catches up with you and so do the other people from the dining hall who wanted to help. All of you are near the front castle door thing. There are big, long windows on either side of it. They're the kind of wobbly glass that makes it hard to see out, but you can see flashing red and blue lights. You've done good.

 

 

You look up at Acklin, staying on Darvin as he flails. The door begins to open. "Did you... know Conrad was going to get killed?" you ask her.

 

"No, actually, not until right after he got killed. Aniese was really upset so I took her to the bathroom and asked if she was alright, and that's when she told me everything. I told her it was alright, then I called into headquarters and told them about it. After that, they told me to investigate but make sure no one knew I was an agent at all."

 

You nod quietly. You're still sad Conrad died. You look up when Sarlla storms over. She's in angry tears. As Darvin flails, she gets a good kick at his crotch while his legs are spread apart. He cries out when she gives him a good kick and you flinch because, wow, that probably has to hurt. Your own crotch aches with crotch-to-crotch sympathy.

 

As it turns out, the cops come in and arrest Darvin. He's already convicted as guilty because of Acklin's investigation, but he has to go through a trial anyways. Sarlla is trying not to cry and she's angry about the tears. Brusli stays by her side.

 

Aniese is heavily question by the police. It's debated whether she should be convicted for assisting a murder, but then she's excused because she didn't actually help, and she did come clean. It is, however, determined she'll have to serve 100 hours of community service. Aniese is completely fine with that.

 

As for you, you get to trade numbers with Acklin and Pendic. Acklin thinks you have potential for maybe CSI or even forensic sciences. Pendic wanted it just because. You're still sad about Conrad's death, but you're glad Darvin got caught.

 

It's decided by Sarlla and Growen, since they're the next oldest club members, that the club will continue. When you get home, this fiasco is already all over the news and your mother was worried sick about you. She's not sure if she wants you to keep going, but you're sure that you want to.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
